


Why Spike Can Be Submissive

by Ladycat



Series: Why Spike Can Be Submissive [1]
Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: Dom/sub, Dominance, Explanations, Exposition, M/M, POV Outsider, Submission, there's porn to make up for the heavy-handedness!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-13
Updated: 2014-02-13
Packaged: 2018-01-12 05:30:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,375
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1182477
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ladycat/pseuds/Ladycat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“I mean, okay, I don’t really have a problem seeing Xander as this big caretaker-y person, because he did that for us for years, even though he never did with Anya. But seeing Spike all ... all—!”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Why Spike Can Be Submissive

**Author's Note:**

> Long ago, I read on a message board - don't remember where, they linked to my website which is how I found them - about how Xander could be dominant or submissive, but Spike? Was totally a dominant. Seeing him as a submissive - like, chained up, yes master kind of sub - was just not true to the character of Spike.
> 
> This was the result of reading that inanity.

“I really don’t get it.”

Two pairs of eyes followed Buffy’s hazel ones to look into the other room. Xander was crashed out on the sofa, eye half-closed as he watched whatever was blaring wordlessly at him. Beside hiim— _below_ him—sat Spike, dressed in tight jeans and a tighter wifebeater, leaning against the sofa so his head was just below Xander’s hand. It looked idyllic, really. Two lovers companionably watching television, looking calm and content and perfectly happy just to spend time in the other’s presence.

Except Xander was stroking Spike’s hair.

That wasn’t bad in theory, of course. Most people liked head-stroking, the slow, sensuous massages turning most of them into little piles of kitty-love. It was the _way_ Xander did it. Buffy didn’t know how to explain it better than that. There was something... possessive about Xander’s touch. Something that made Spike seem like an _actual_ kitty, instead of a calm, sated vampire. Something a little darker, a little dirtier than the innocuous action suggested.

Or maybe it was just the collar locked around Spike’s throat that did it.

“I’m not sure what you mean,” Willow said, leaning over Buffy’s shoulder to catch her own glimpse. Her voice was husky, and a little hesitant as she said, “Is it the Spike and Xander thing, because—”

“No, it’s not the Spike and Xander thing. I mean, okay, it _is_ , but not the them being together thing. I get that what I think doesn’t matter, and mostly I think that _I_ don’t matter since they’re so happy together.” That didn’t come out quite right. Buffy frowned, trying to organize her thoughts more clearly.

“You’re not talking about them being together,” Giles offered, helpfully distilling her thoughts for her. “Although, I could object to your not being important. Xander still values your friendship and your opinion, you know.”

Yes, she did know that—although for a while, she hadn’t been so certain of that. But she’d dealt with her own issues and had put a lot of work into her friendship with Xander and she was positive that they were okay with each other again. The way they hadn’t been since ... god, almost ten years ago now. When she’d had Riley and he’d had Anya, before Glory came and helped them mess everything up.

“So,” Willow said, copper eyebrows twitching, “if it’s not Spike and Xander having a relationship, what don’t you get?”

Buffy’s gaze returned to the picturesque scene on the sofa. The way Xander was curled around Spike, despite resting above him, and Spike was canted in Xander’s direction. “It’s Spike,” she said slowly. “And Xander, too, but mostly ... it’s Spike.”

Giles’ cup of tea clicked quietly against the mahogany desk. The new leader of the Council didn’t often splurge funds on himself, but the comforting, dark-wood paneled office with it’s rich furniture—beautiful _and_ comfortable—had been something Giles was adamant about receiving. He had a point, after all. He often entertained important guests and letting them see wealth among the upper echelon—particularly when the other members were scruffy children—but also because three nights out of five he slept in his office. Maintaining a level of comfort was essential.

Leaning back in the opulent, lumbar-supporting chair, Giles eyed Buffy speculatively. “Buffy, you aren’t actually—”

Buffy blinked. Giles was going _somewhere_ with that leading tone in his voice, but she couldn’t figure it out. She looked over to Willow, brows quirked in a silent plea.

Her old friend came through, of course. “Giles! She’s not jealous of Xander for having Spike! Or for Spike, having Xander!” Her indignant expression faltered a little as she turned back to Buffy. “Um, you aren’t, Buffy, right?”

Buffy rolled her eyes. “Yeah, I spent two years _running away from him_ because I had the hots for him so bad. You guys!”

Willow looked appropriately sheepish for having doubted Buffy even for a moment, but Giles continued to look thoughtful. It wasn’t a really good look on his increasingly-craggy features, but Buffy dismissed that. She hated remembering anything about Giles getting old.

“Very well. So you don’t object to the two of them together, you don’t object to the two of them being male.” Giles eyebrow lifted. Buffy glared, hard, insulted he’d even implied that. She wasn’t nineteen anymore! Nodding, Giles continued, “You don’t object to them being gay, nor are you harboring any lingering emotions regarding either of them. So what _is_ your problem? And please don’t say ‘Spike’. We all have problems with Spike.”

There would be a time when that joke would go stale. Buffy wasn’t sure when that would be. “But it _is_ Spike,” she said slowly. “It’s the way he acts. The way he’s so ... so ...” Her hands waved, helpless and inarticulate when it came to this. “And Xander’s all into it!” she added, still without truly explaining what she meant. “I mean, okay, I don’t really have a problem seeing Xander as this big caretaker-y person, because he did that for us for years, even though he never did with Anya. But seeing _Spike_ all ... all—!”

She turned to Willow, trusting their best-friends-forever telepathy to kick in and explain what she couldn’t. Willow’s brows furrowed, eyes moving back and forth as she tried to understand—and then abruptly widened. “Oh!” she exclaimed. “Oh. Um. Okay. So, Buffy, are you _objecting_ to this, or just, well, confused?”

Thank god her best friend was a witch. A really perceptive witch. “No,” Buffy said, shaking her head firmly. “Definitely not objecting. First of all, not my business. They both seem really happy with it and I am _so_ not calling anyone else on their potentially deviant habits.” Not after Willow had started dating Yolanda, of the tattoos, peircings, fondness for leather, and Tara-like sweetness, among other helpful (and humiliating) learning experiences. “It’s just that this is _Spike_. Now, you flip them and I can see that, no problem. Okay, possibly still a problem, but I could at least _get_ it, then.”

Swinging her chair around, Buffy was in time to see Giles remove the glasses and start cleaning them. She was _so_ glad that he’d refused the laser surgery Willow repeatedly suggested. How else were they supposed to read Giles, if they didn’t have glasses-cleaning as a barometer? “Ah,” Giles said slowly. “You’re referring to the, ah, method in which Xander and Spike display their affection.”

Willow stood up and closed the door, brushing her fingers over the little blue gem above the door knob that activated a cone of silence-type spell. The magic hummed in the air for a moment, then vanished as Willow curled herself back into the corner of the sofa.

“You’re objecting to Spike being Xander’s submissive,” Giles said plainly.

“Not objecting,” Buffy objected. “So long as Xander’s not hurting him, or being hurt _by_ him, I’m not gonna even think that. And Wills, I love you, but _please_ don’t offer caveats about acceptable kinds of pain. You know what I mean.”

Willow pouted. “Fine, steal my fun.”

Glaring at Willow would only create more of a pout and a ‘talk’ with Yolanda, later. “I’m _confused_ ,” Buffy said, hoping to forestall anymore mocking-Buffy games from starting. “I can kind of see why Xander would want that. And why Xander would want that with Spike. But why would Spike ...”

She trailed off, helpless once more as she contemplated the memories of Spike as Xander’s submissive. The one who was occasionally led around on the leash, and who often acted as Xander’s body-servant or butler or whatever the term was. Hell, Spike went statue-silent when Xander told him to! Spike was _never_ silent! And she also knew, due to a very painful and never, _ever_ to be repeated eavesdropping session that Spike was always the, um ‘catcher’ in their relationship. A thought that made her blush every time she had it.

Willow and Giles exchanged glances, falling into that silent communication they’d honed to a fine art over the library table. It had made her feel foolish and immature then and it didn’t help her mood any now.

“Buffy,” Willow said slowly, “are you telling me you’re having a problem with Spike being submissive? With _any_ one? Or just with Xander?”

Thank god, a question she could answer without making herself look like an intolerant bitch. “With anyone,” she said immediately. “Spike really likes being in control,” she explained. “Physically, emotionally, whatever. I can’t see him giving up that control for anyone—even Xander. And _no_ , I don’t mean that Xander’s not good enough or anything like that. Just that Spike likes to be in control and he isn’t going to give that up if he doesn’t have to.”

Giles toyed with the pen she’d bought for his sixtieth birthday. “I believe you’re very much mistaken about that,” he said quietly.

“Really? Cause I’m pretty sure I’m not. Remember, I’ve still got the most one-on-one experience with Spike. Pre-soul, post-soul, the only other person who spent more time with him is probably Angel. I know what I’m talking about, Giles. Spike isn’t going to play bottom. For anybody.”

Firm pronouncement made, Buffy folded her arms over his chest and tried to remind herself that Spike not bottoming for anyone was a good thing. Wasn’t it? Wasn’t being a bottom—or, well, being called one—an insult to guys? Not that there was anything _wrong_ with that, she mentally amended. Just that this was _Spike_. And no matter what was between her and Spike, seeing him treated like a prized pet was creeping her out. It just wasn’t right.

Giles’ disconcertingly level stare didn’t help matters. Suddenly unsure and afraid she’d said something wrong, Buffy bit her lip.

“You think,” Giles said very, very slowly, “that being a submissive means that you are giving up control. That being a ‘bottom’, as you call it, is the weaker position.”

The tone of Giles’ question told her that saying ‘yes’ would be very, very bad. “Isn’t it?” she asked instead.

Willow’s muttered, “Oh, boy,” didn’t comfort her.

Giles’ sigh was abrupt and forceful. “I had hopes of not having to discuss things of this nature with you lot, you know. Rather, not discussing them _again_. You were certainly old enough to know the birds and bees before you stumbled into my library. I don’t see why I should be forced to reexplain them to you when you’re well over twenty five—” how nice of him not to mention Buffy’s actually age— “and have had several so-called-deviant relationships yourself.”

“Hey!” two feminine voices cried. Then they both looked sheepish.

“Very well. I could tell you that it is submissives who have the true power in dom/sub relationships, but you won’t believe me. No, really, Buffy,” he said when Buffy opened her mouth to object. “You don’t know how to believe me. Because you have never understood those kinds of power plays. It’s one of the reasons you and Riley had such difficulties, actually. You don’t understand giving up power to gain it.”

Buffy folded her arms even more tightly around her. Thinking about Riley no longer hurt, but the knowledge that she’d hurt him so badly—intentionally or not—still bothered her. “So what can you tell me?”

“That Spike has always been submissive, Buffy,” Giles said gently. “And it has nothing to do with the physical acts he may or may not preform.”

Always a submissive? _Spike_? Buffy laughed before she realized that Giles was being seriously. “Oh, come on. I slept with him, Giles. He’s not the _least_ bit—that.” Saying the word so much was making her uncomfortable. Discussing the part of her life she hated discussing didn’t help.

“Um, Buffy? Like Giles says. Sometimes it isn’t what you do that decides it,” Willow said. Her eyes were distant, turned inward. “Sometimes it’s all about attitude.”

“Yeah, and he had plenty of that, too,” she snorted.

“Not that kind of attitude,” Giles said sharply, regaining her attention. “Think, Buffy. You’re correct in that you know Spike best of all of us, except perhaps Xander. You say that Spike was overly aggressive with you, and probably very sexually controlling. Did you ever stop to think about _why_?”

Buffy scowled. Why had she brought this up again? “Because he was a selfish, soulless bastard,” she muttered, mostly to herself.

“One can never forget that, no. Spike is very selfish and he doesn’t always think things through. But I had a chance to speak with him about this and... ” Giles trailed off, his regretful expression pulling Buffy out of her sulk. Why was Giles looking _regretful_? “I misjudged him very badly. I never gave him credence for having any thought but for himself, when in actuality he rarely does.”

“Um. This is Spike we’re talking about, right?” Willow asked.

“Not when he’s in love, Willow. Not when he finally understands that he’s needed.” Giles tossed his glasses onto his desk with a sigh, rubbing his eyes directly. “Buffy, you were drowning. Without rehashing old issues, you had nothing to cling to and therefore drew everything inside you. Spike was attempting to draw you back out. His methods were not, in retrospect, the most effective, but his intentions were totally valid. Almost honorable, in a way.”

Buffy blinked. And then blinked again. “Spike. Honorable. You, Giles, who tried to _kill_ him in cold blood, just said he was honorable.”

“Yes. I did.” Giles met her gaze, a slight smile setting off a cascade of creases around his mouth. That Giles had so many smile-lines was always a sense of peace inside Buffy’s soul. Her watcher, her _friend_ should have happiness. “You were imploding, Buffy, and he saw it first. He attempted to draw it out the only way he knew how, through pain and fighting and sex. And he was almost successful several times, if you’ll recall.”

She did recall. It hadn’t been all bad, her interlude with Spike. Actually, it hadn’t even been mostly bad. The thoughts of hate and disgust had been in her before she ever kissed Spike, and a decade and more of growing up allowed Buffy to see that even _without_ Spike, she’d have found some way of giving vent to those emotions. It hadn’t been her relationship with Spike that convinced Buffy that she needed to kill her friends to find a sense of ‘normal’, after all.

Oh, he’d made mistakes. Lots of them. And he’d been as selfish as she always knew he could be. But as Buffy sat there, staring at nothing at all, she could kind of see what Giles meant about _why_ Spike had done what he’d done. And why that didn’t give him the dominant position, no matter how many times he’d wanted that, during their marathon sessions.

Then again...it hadn’t been _her_ that got locked in handcuffs.

Willow’s touch made her look up into sad eyes. “It isn’t about control, Buffy. It’s about trust.”

Immediately, Buffy knew that Willow wasn’t talking totally about her relationship with Spike. Or Spike’s with Xander, either.

“Remember when I went crazy? Not when Tara—when I tried to destroy the world,” Willow interrupted herself. “Before. Way before, back when I started realizing how powerful I could be. Do you know what my problem really was?” Willow’s smile was heartbreakingly sad. “I didn’t trust my ability with the magic. And when Tara said something, that only made it worse. It made me into even more of a—a control freak, I guess, and I was so busy convincing myself that everything was okay that it just got worse and worse. And the very first thing the coven taught me was that if I didn’t trust myself— _completely_ trust myself—then I’d never be capable of using magic. Ever.”

It’d taken her years to understand all that, Buffy realized. Comparing this serene, almost yogi like woman with the scarred, battered girl who’d returned from London years before, Buffy could see that _that_ Willow hadn’t gotten it yet. She hadn’t even been close.

Then again, Buffy remembered what _she_ had been like that year. Taking Willow’s hand in hers, she squeezed lightly, taking comfort in the knowledge that as bad as it’d been, they still made it out.

Clearing her throat, Willow made herself smile and squeeze Buffy’s hand back. “What I meant to say,” she said with a teasingly bright grin, “was that Spike wanted you to trust him. He got desperate when you didn’t and acting like a stupid, selfish man—but that’s what he wanted. Your trust.”

Buffy nodded slowly, trying to piece that together in her mind without letting certain thoughts intrude and distract her. Not relevant, not important, and she’d stopped thinking about some of those things _years_ ago, for her own mental health. “Okay. I can kinda see that. Even the aggressiveness as a means of trying to help me. But come on. Spike was with Drusilla for a hundred _years_.”

“And if you think that Spike was the one with power in that relationship, I assure you, you’re wrong,” Giles told her, smiling proudly at both of them, despite his dry tone of voice. “Spike was never in control, no matter how much he convinced himself of that. Though I doubt he even tried to, actually.”

“But—” Buffy cut herself off, trying to remember the few times she’d seen Spike and Dru together, and then the slightly more plentiful tales Spike had told her _of_ Drusilla. “Huh. Wow. This is kinda making sense. Dru couldn’t take care of herself, so Spike did it for her. Which is a lot like what he tried to do with me, except I wouldn’t let him. And ... ” Her eyes opened wider. “And Xander _does_?”

“There’s a fascinating study about beta males you could read if you wanted, but essentially, yes. With Xander, Spike is allowed to give all the things he wants to give, because he trusts that Xander wants it. That Xander, well, appreciates it.”

“And with Spike,” Willow added, “Xander gets to do all the things he never could with Cordelia or Anya or even us. He gets to be in control. Not _real_ control, because Spike wants it and allows it and when Spike says stop, Xander does.” Willow flushed rose, but smiled, obviously happy that Xander was so happy—but then, she’d been a big supporter of the Spike and Xander relationship since it first started. “Think about it this way. The one thing Xander’s always wanted to be was the cool, suave, powerful guy. And _Spike’s_ always wanted to be somebody’s. So,” Willow pushed her palms together, “they fit. The beta gets to be alpha, and the, um, other beta understands he has an alpha.”

And the scariest part was that Buffy actually _understood_ all of that. Not just what Willow and Giles were—nicely—beating her over the head with, but all the other stuff they weren’t talking about. Like how Spike and Xander still argued and how sometimes she could see this flash in Spike’s eyes that used to mean someone was gonna get it up against the wall and walk funny for hours afterwards. Which _happened_ , she realized with a start. Their relationship was fluid, shifting depending on their needs. Sometimes they clashed, sometimes they shifted, sometimes it was as perfect as it had been before the door had been shut—just two men so obviously in love with each other.

“Okay,” she said finally. “Got it. But I still have one more question.”

Giles putting on his glasses was officially a sign of the personal stuff being left behind. That was okay with Buffy. She was honestly having a hard time stopping herself from grinning and she felt Willow relax through their still-joined hands. Complicated and often embarrassing stuff _over_ and it was time to regain the funny.

Making herself look as clueless and ‘dumb blonde’ as she could, Buffy pouted at both Willow and Giles. “So _why_ does Spike have to be in those jeans all the time? I mean, come on Xander. You’re missing the entire leather section of the mens store! And the collar? Should have spikes.” She grinned. “It’s appropriate, don't you think?”


End file.
